in the shadow of the rose

in the shadow of the rose

branching out, grubbing down,
taking starways down to hell,
reestablishing the vanishing
point, trying a different
bat, a different stance, alter-
ing diet and manner of
walking, readjusting the
system, photographing your
dynosaur dream,
driving your machine with
more grace and care,
noticing the flower talking
to you,
realizing the gigantic agony
of the terrapin,
you pray for rain like an
Indian,
slide a fresh clip into the
automatic,
turn out the lights and
wait.

Charles Bukowski
The Last Nigth of the Earth Poems.

celebrando os dias estranhos, sem sentido e que nos movem.